Flashback [The Bronze Woods, East Kabrin Road] Remember Me (Shiyami)

[Rhys Blodwen]

91st OF SUMMER, 513 A.V. THIRTEENTH BELLThe sun was high in the afternoon sky, the wind rustling through the orange leaves of the Bronze Forest. The name fit the change of scenery: The Watchtowers were about to flare a brighter color, as had the trees. The air was crisp, and yet it had a bitter taste. The small band of travelers seemed slow, and a bit weak. The recent disaster of the Djed Storm still festered in the traveler's minds and thoughts. The group was solemn, and marched with a heavy aura about them. In the back of the group stood Rhys, eyes glued to the Kabrin beneath his feet. The storm hung in his thoughts more than the rest, given that he had lost what none of the others had. The others had lost friends, maybe a brother or a sister, but Rhys had lost something else. Rhys had lost a love, an idol, a mother. Rhys mourned his loss in silence, often forgetting that his goal was not to wander the Kabrin road, but to reach Syliras. And he was close. The large castle could be seen on the horizon. It was maybe a day's walk there. However, as he mourned, he often slowed his speed. This usually served as an issue, seeing as he was always in the back of the band of travelers, and usually unseen. This was the instance given. Within moments, the group disappeared behind brush. Rhys lifted his head, expecting to see the small band of men and women that he had traveled with for so long. Instead, there was an empty road. He knew it was foolish to be in the wilderness alone, even if it was the Kabrin road. He quickly became frightened, closing in on the brush that enveloped the band. In his frenzy, he flung the branches aside. The gods, apparently, did not favor Rhys on that day, for his hand slipped, and the branch turned and hit him in the face. He was practically blinded. He was left writhing in blackness, trying to get his sense of direction working. His efforts seemed to be failing him. This seemed apparent when he found himself falling off the road, and tumbling down a hill. His worries were now coming to light. He was scared of the monsters and hostile animals while on the road alone, but what the hell would he do in the woods!? ALONE!? The wind was quicker, now. He was barely aware of the pain erupting in every corner of his self. His head rattled against the frozen ground, his limbs flailing against the wood of the trees, his torso tormented by sticks of every size. Throughout the fall, however, he was quiet. Mostly waiting for gravity to have its way and be done with it. In a blink, it was. Rhys found himself flung against a tree at the foot of the sizeable mound by the base of his spine. Immediately, he began writing on the forest floor, gripping his back. Groaning and moaning, he began to rise, ignoring the pain that flared as he did so. He leaned against the tree he fell upon, panning his head to observe his surroundings. Alone.